


weekend

by mido



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Other, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mido/pseuds/mido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's too hot today." Oikawa declares, setting his finished stick down on the small plate in front of him. "It should be illegal to be this hot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	weekend

**Author's Note:**

> they pronouns 4 nb iwa + he pronouns 4 trans boy oikawa  
> sorry 4 barely any posting ive been in a bit of a writing funk recently ;;;;;

Iwaizumi’s droopy eyelids flutter open at the lazy rays of sunlight streaming through the blinds, throwing glowing stripes over their face. They close their eyes again for a moment, then open them and sit up the slightest bit. The nearly-burning arms wrapped around their waist offer little resistance, and when warm skin brushes against the waistband of their sweats they glance down at the owner of said arms. Oikawa is still asleep, his head leaning against the area above Iwaizumi’s hip as drool leaks out the corner of his mouth, open and exhaling wet breaths against the other’s skin. Iwaizumi softens for a moment, pulling their arm from where it was draped around Oikawa’s shoulders and sliding their hand through the other’s hair. Oikawa insists his everyday style is natural, but Iwaizumi knows better. The curl is, definitely, but they've seen Oikawa’s bathroom enough to know that the other will make it a point to mist a bit of hair spray over the thick locks, at least. It’s not like Iwaizumi minds that much, but they secretly prefer it like this, silky and untouched by product and much easier to thread their fingers through.

A yawn escapes them, prolonged as they lean their head back and rub at the sparse morning tears gathered at the corners of their eyes. Their gaze wanders to the small black alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed, flashing _10:24 AM_ at them with bright green digits. With only an hour and a half until noon, Iwaizumi figures they should get up now rather than lazing around for even more time.

Escaping Oikawa’s embrace turns out to be more troublesome than Iwaizumi had thought. They pull on the other’s wrist, trying to tug Oikawa’s arm off of him, but instead of freedom they're met with a muffled sound of protest and a tighter grip around their waist. They sigh inwardly, rubbing at the area between their eyebrows to relax the muscles there. _You furrow your brows too much, Iwa-chan,_ Oikawa had said. _You’re gonna end up getting old man wrinkles!_

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi says out loud, their voice interrupting the comfortable silence that had enveloped the room previously. They half-heartedly yank at the other’s wrist again, but all they elicit from Oikawa is him shifting to get comfy again and a quiet groan. “Assikawa.” Iwaizumi says, this time with a louder and firmer tone as they tangle their fingers in the other’s hair and shake his head.

“Mmm.” Is Oikawa’s response as he shimmies closer to the other and pushes his face against the exposed skin of Iwaizumi’s hip where their sweatpants have rode down. “I wanna sleep more.”

Iwaizumi clicks their tongue at the other in annoyance, and moves to get out of the bed and stand. Oikawa makes various noises of protest that are muffled into the sheets as they do so, grabbing at the air in Iwaizumi’s general direction as they remove themself from Oikawa’s embrace. When he no longer feels the other’s heat in bed beside him, he drops his arm back on the mattress lamely, groaning exaggeratedly as his hand hangs over the side. “Iwa-chaaaaan.” He moans, kicking at the covers bunched around his calves. “Come back.”

“It’s almost noon.” Iwaizumi replies, plucking a random shirt off the ground and tugging it over their head. “You should be up by now.”

“But it’s the weekeeeeeeend.” Oikawa complains, drawing out the last syllable to embellish his point. He wriggles over to the side of the bed Iwaizumi was on previously, hanging his head upside down over the edge, watching closely as the other slips their arms through the loose sleeves of the t-shirt Iwaizumi’s picked up. Oikawa’s lips curve up at the corners into a silly grin; he doesn’t think the other’s realized that they're dressing themself in one of Oikawa’s shirts, and there’s no way he’s going to point it out. They’re both the same size anyway, so it doesn’t really matter to him. However, Oikawa does have to admit that seeing Iwaizumi in his shirt is pretty cute, with how opposed to affection they are sometimes. The other begins to pull off their sweatpants in favor of a pair of shorts, and Oikawa whistles at the sight of Iwaizumi’s boxers. “Oh my _god,_ shut up.” They groan as they grab the closest pair of shorts and tug them on in a hurry; a simple black pair.

Oikawa giggles to himself, still smiling as Iwaizumi sits down on the bed beside him. “Unless you’re getting up now, I’m going out.” They announce, pulling socks onto their respective feet as the other watches. Once they finish they glance down at the other, meeting Oikawa’s attentive gaze. “Well? You know you’re gonna get a headache if you keep your head like that.”

Oikawa doesn’t give a response for a good two seconds, then groans loudly and sits up, scratching at the nape of his neck absentmindedly. “Coming, Iwaizumi-sama.” He says, the end of his sentence being clipped off by a yawn. Said person's face heats up in surprise at the honorific, and they shoot Oikawa a glare for good measure.

It takes Oikawa a solid twenty minutes to get ready to leave, partly because of his morning routine and partly because he keeps nodding off in the middle of things (Iwaizumi had to shake him awake three times; twice while getting dressed and once while primping in the bathroom). They finally leave Iwaizumi’s house around 11, with Oikawa complaining about the heat and the former practically pushing him out the door. “If you don’t like the heat, then you didn’t have to come.” Iwaizumi mutters, running a hand through their hair in irritation as they make their way down the sidewalk. “But then I’d be so booooored, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa complains, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead in a faux swoon. “Plus, you’d be lonely without me!”

“I don’t think ‘lonely’ is the word you’re looking for.” Iwaizumi mutters, shoving their hands into the pockets of their shorts. “So mean!” Oikawa cries, sticking out his lower lip and wrapping his arms around himself in a show of false hurt. His arms go back to swinging by his sides a second later, exactly how long it takes him to pipe up again. “By the way, where are we even going?”

Iwaizumi purposely meets the other’s eyes, giving him a dubious expression. “What?” Oikawa asks, frowning. “We’re getting lunch.” Iwaizumi informs him, facing forward again as they come to a crosswalk. “Why else would we be outside in this heat?”

“Hmm.” Oikawa rubs at his chin in thought, tilting his head as Iwaizumi grabs his hand and leads them both across the street to the other sidewalk. They release it as soon as they reach the other side, and Oikawa mourns the loss of Iwaizumi’s hold before replying. “Getting ice cream?”

“This early?” Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugs and grins. “Never too early for ice cream in this heat, right, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa suggests multiple places where they could get a satisfactory lunch, but most cost a bit too much for either of them to spare. Thus, they end up at a family restaurant not too far from the house, sandwiched between a McDonald’s and a shop selling mochi and dango. Iwaizumi, disappointed by the lack of agedashi tofu available, allows Oikawa to order for both of them. They make idle conversation as usual while munching on the yakitori the other decided on.

“It’s too hot today.” Oikawa declares, setting down his finished stick on the small plate in front of him. Iwaizumi nods, mumbling a preoccupied “yeah” as they take a bite out of one of the pieces of meat on their stick. “It should be illegal for it to be this hot.”

“It’s summer; what do you expect?” They say, pointing their half-finished skewer in Oikawa’s direction. The latter shrugs and puffs up his cheeks, glancing towards the entrance.

“We should get ice cream.”

“No.”

“Aww, why not?”

Iwaizumi rolls their eyes at the other, sticking another piece of meat in their mouth. “You just woke up half an hour ago.” They remind him. Oikawa juts out his lower lip in a pout, then allows a paper on the wall to garner his attention.

Once Iwaizumi finishes their yakitori, they split the bill and leave, set on wandering the streets. “Hey, hey, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa waves them over to a window where a mannequin is on display. A pleated skirt with a light blue embroidered hem is fastened around its waist, while a cream-colored sweater has been pulled over a white dress shirt on the top half, the collar smoothed down over the sweater’s neckline. A ribbon matching the color of the embroidery on the skirt has been threaded under the color and tied into a flat and boxy bow in the front, pulling the ensemble together. Iwaizumi looks it over for a moment, then turns back to Oikawa. “What?” They ask, unsure of what the other’s meaning for him to do. “Wouldn’t I look cute in that?” He says loudly, attracting the attention of a few passerbys as he winks and flashes a peace sign at Iwaizumi. The latter covers Oikawa’s face with their own hand, eliciting a sound of surprise and protest from the other. They withdraw it immediately once they feel something warm and wet against their palm, looking at Oikawa incredulously. “Did you just lick me?” They ask, brows furrowing as their mouth downturns into a frown. The other has the decency to at least look a little embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck as he grins mischievously with pink-tinged cheeks. Iwaizumi slugs him in the shoulder.

They do pass by quite a few mannequins, Oikawa pointing out the ones that have been dressed the best or ones displaying more outlandish style. They even come across one wearing decora, a fashion both are quite surprised to see in a store outside of Harajuku. Once Oikawa spots it, he turns to Iwaizumi, smiling knowingly. “Hey, Iwa-chan, what if we—”

“We are not spending four hours on a train to spend less than an hour in Harajuku.”

Oikawa pouts, stomping down the sidewalk as Iwaizumi follows, muffling a quiet laugh into their hand.

While Iwaizumi refuses to let Oikawa window shop and waste all of his money, that doesn’t mean they're against actually going inside the stores with interesting displays. Oikawa does pull them into a sports shop to buy a new pair of sneakers for volleyball, but after that they end up checking out the interior of almost every store on the block. While it’s usually Oikawa picking out things for Iwaizumi and himself to try on, this time it appears this shop’s particular stock has struck a chord with the latter. Even the salesclerk notices how they seem especially enamored by the collection of clothing paired on one of the racks closer to the dressing room, but Oikawa pounces before she can. “Iwa-chaaaan!” He calls, hurrying over to the other. Iwaizumi looks up, seemingly alarmed at being caught at this specific moment with an exceptional skirt in their hands. “Oooh!” Oikawa sounds genuinely surprised to see their choice and the few things they've set aside; a few shirts, a pair of shorts that hung down to the knee and another skirt or two. He’s probably also, Iwaizumi grudgingly admits, surprised that the latter isn’t completely dense regarding fashion. “What?” They bait, daring Oikawa to tease them. This time, it’s their turn to be surprised, as the other looks rather thoughtful. “Are you gonna try them on? Come on, I’ve got some things too! We can model for each other!” Oikawa exclaims, his tone ecstatic. Iwaizumi can’t find it in themself to deny the excited sparkle in the other’s eyes, and they discreetly gather their choices into their arms and head toward a changing room.

Oikawa almost looks disappointed when Iwaizumi shoves him out of the dressing room, saying, “No, fuck you, I’m not changing with you in here, Shittykawa.”

“But Iwa-chan!” He’d pleaded, taking on the expression he usually used on the girls at school. “I bet you look super cute half-naked.”

That earns him the door in his face, locked and with Iwaizumi saying, “Go get your own stall.” from the other side. He complies, hanging up his garments on the hooks in the room beside the other, then scrutinizing himself in the mirror as he chooses which one he wants to try first.

Iwaizumi, on the other hand, has no such class. Unceremoniously they drop their clothes on the stool in the corner, then tug off their shorts and leave them on the floor in a heap. They first unclip the hanger holding onto the skirt Oikawa caught them holding; a plain off-white one that had a bit of ruffle to it. They had been pleased with the material it was made with before, but having it fastened around their waist as they spun a little in front of the mirror made it flutter and billow, a feature Iwaizumi secretly admired about clothing of its nature. The next few were simpler: a graphic tee that said something in English in blocky blue letters, a pair of denim capris that was hemmed up to his knees, and a button-down shirt with the sleeves cuffed at his elbows and a loose dressy-style collar. They did have a few more skirts in here with him, but they debated if showing them to Oikawa was really a smart idea or not.

Said male was having a ball in his own stall, twirling around in unabashed pleasure as the skirt they’d seen in the window earlier turned out to look just as good on him as he’d thought it would. He’d managed to sneak a dress back too, something he didn’t usually do on account of the strange looks he’d get from the salesclerks, but on a whim he’d pulled one off the rack. It turned out to be a great choice, as the fabric was the kind Oikawa loved (silky but not too flimsy, and soft but not too cottony) and it fit him snugly (which he preferred to loose clothing). He was surprised at the color, as something as bright as this wouldn’t usually be seen off of the lolita or decora girls you see in magazines depicting some of the newer trends many have latched onto. He was pleased nonetheless, because, in his opinion, it suited his figure. The upper half was rather modest, with a neckline going straight across his collarbone and only meeting the back at the top of his shoulder, leaving the crook of his neck exposed along with the straps of his binder. The waist of it was elastic, and the ruffled skirt of it was layered enough to make it come three-fourths of the way down his thigh, or to his knee if he pulled it down far enough. The mint hue of it reminded him fleetingly of his Aobajousai uniform, but with no white to contrast it this time except the little offered by his binder.

However, Oikawa came to the dressing room prepared as he plucks the soft white pair of knee socks from the stool in the corner and slips them onto his legs. After examining himself in the mirror he wishes he had a necklace of some sort to tie the whole thing together, but he figures Iwaizumi won’t know any better. He unlocks the changing room and exits it, shutting the stall door so that no one tries to walk in while his other clothes are still in there. “Iwa-chan!” He whispers exaggeratedly, loudly enough so that the other can hear him. “Come out!”

Iwaizumi’s ears perk up at the sound of Oikawa’s shitty whispering, and they look down at their outfit. They're wearing the shirt they came here in and the first skirt they'd tried on (it turned out to be their favorite of the garments they’d picked). Deciding _what the hell,_ they unlock the door and step out of the dressing room.

Oikawa gasps upon seeing them, and Iwaizumi cringes and flicks the other’s forehead, a bit fearful that the salesclerk would come back here and see two teenagers wearing clothing that was definitely not intended for teenagers of their appearances. “Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says slowly. “Why the _hell_ have you never dressed like this before.”

The tips of their ears burn at the other’s comment, and they frown at Oikawa. “Why the hell would I?” They retort, but nonetheless their cheeks heat up at the fact that they don't look ridiculous (to Oikawa, at least). Said male looks at them dubiously, seemingly finding it hard to believe that Iwaizumi asked that question. "Well, duh." Oikawa says, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. "You look _good._ " He pauses before adding "Not as good as me, though!" and winking. 

Oikawa's expression turns thoughtful before Iwaizumi can click their tongue in annoyance. He takes long strides around the other, inspecting them from every angle possible. When Iwaizumi continues to stand still as a statue, he sighs and throws his arm around the former's shoulders. "Come _on,_ Iwa-chan, I can't do all the work myself!"

Iwaizumi glares at him and asks, "Then what am I supposed to do?" 

"Spin for me, of course!" Oikawa withdraws his hold on the other, stepping back and watching as Iwaizumi spins awkwardly on the ball of his foot. The skirt catches the air easily, fluttering up and showing a portion of their thighs. Iwaizumi settles into the motion after a moment, twirling with more confidence than before and enjoying the way the material flails out around them like a cloud. They stop abruptly after a moment when they meet Oikawa's gaze and remember the other's been watching them. The latter's face has shifted from observant to faintly pink, lips forming a small O of confusion or surprise (Iwaizumi can't tell). They bristle at the other's unreadable expression, placing their hands on their hips and glaring. "Well?"

Oikawa snaps out of his trance, smiling up to his ears. "Do you like it?" He asks through his grin, though the glimmer in his eyes indicates he already knows the answer.

Iwaizumi shrugs, looking away in embarrassment. "It's nice." They say, while inwardly shouting _yes! it's great! let's do it again!_

Now it's Oikawa's turn to put his hands on his hips. "Don't lie, Iwa-chan, I saw how you looked while spinning for me!" He jabs his finger in the other's direction. "We're buying it!"

"Of course we are; why else would I be trying it on?" Iwaizumi points out in a matter-of-factly tone, causing the vague blush dusting Oikawa's cheeks to darken. They gesture to said male's choice of dress, asking "Did you already critique yourself?"

Oikawa puffs up his cheeks in a pout, crossing his arms across his chest. "Duh, Iwa-chan! You've got to give me some input too, you know." 

Iwaizumi tilts their head to the side as Oikawa spins around; the skirt on his dress isn't like Iwaizumi's -- the thick ruffles stay snug on top of each other, hugging his waist. The hem of one of his socks slips down his knee a bit as he twirls, but he bends over and tugs it back up before it slides down. Iwaizumi flushes at the action, which points Oikawa's ass in their direction. Luckily for them, the other stands upright again a second later. "Well?" He asks, awaiting a review. 

Iwaizumi looks him up and down, piecing together a general opinion. "It's missing something." They respond lamely, unsure of what to say. "The color fits, though." 

Oikawa sighs dramatically. "I knew I should've nabbed a necklace or something." He moans. "That saleslady was hovering over me, so I couldn't get everything I wanted!"

"Get it some other time then, dumbass." Iwaizumi clicks his tongue at the other, moving to head back into his changing room. "Get changed and let's go."

A silly grin spreads across Oikawa's face at that. "Yes sir!" He responds, saluting and standing up straight. Iwaizumi just groans at his theatrics while the other giggles and heads back to his respective dressing room.

They pay and leave the store five minutes later, with Oikawa striding ahead and Iwaizumi grudgingly wondering how they got stuck carrying both bags, which are looped over their shoulder. A glance at their phone informs them that they spent around an hour in there, but they can't bring themself to care. Only too late do they realize they've been following Oikawa around; and said male has led them to the ice cream shop Iwaizumi'd adamantly refused to visit before. They glare at him skeptically, informing him that they're aware the two of them ending up here isn't an accident or coincidence. "Well, to be fair, Iwa-chan, you didn't say anything on the way!" He responds to their silent disapproval, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest. Iwaizumi sighs dramatically, then grudgingly tells him, "Fine, go order something."

Oikawa lights up like Christmas at their ok, planting a sloppy kiss on Iwaizumi's cheek before running into the shop yelling "Okay!"

Iwaizumi spits at the ground in embarrassment, looking around in what they hope is a subtle attempt to see if anyone witnessed Oikawa's act of PDA. Luckily for them, only a few others are out in this heat, and most are paying as little attention to the world around them as possible. They plop themselves down on the bench outside the shop, dropping the bags holding their previous purchases beside their feet. They fan themself in a futile attempt to avoid the sweltering heat for a moment, but they drop their hand again once Oikawa rejoins them outside, two dripping cones of ice cream clutched in his hands. 

He hands Iwaizumi one, chocolate, while he licks at the strawberry cone in his other hand. Sticky streams of melted ice cream already begin to coat Iwaizumi's fingers as they scoop a portion of the chocolate-flavored sweet into their mouth with their tongue. The frigid yet sugary taste is a relief after dealing with the summer heat for this long, and they bite out another chunk as drops of sweat snake down their temples. Oikawa seems to be grateful as well, trying his best to lick up every stray drop of liquefied ice cream. 

Once they finish with the crunch of artificial tasting cones, Iwaizumi leans back against the bench, closing their eyes for a moment and relishing the moment. Oikawa, on the other hand, seems to have contrasting plans, as he slides closer to the other until he's pressed against their side. A patch of leftover ice cream coats the corner of Iwaizumi's upper lip, and Oikawa takes it upon himself to clean it up. The other's eyes shoot open at the familiar wet feeling of something being licked off their face, and they spin to face Oikawa with burning cheeks. The brunet seems unfazed, pointing at Iwaizumi's mouth with a hint of devilishness and informing them that "You had a bit of ice cream on your mouth." Iwaizumi opens said mouth to say something in response, but they're cut off when Oikawa surges forward and presses his lips to theirs.

It's a chaste kiss, one unlike Oikawa to initiate, but Iwaizumi savors it nonetheless. They separate only a few seconds later, and the latter turns their head immediately before they can meet the other's eyes. "Don't interrupt me next time, you ass." They grumble, slumping in their seat. Oikawa laughs, bright and clear as a bell, before snaking his arms around Iwaizumi's arm and leaning his head on their shoulder. "I promise, Iwa-chan!" He faux-whispers into the other's ear, eliciting a click of the tongue and a head leaning back on top of his.

**Author's Note:**

> finished this 4 the meme team


End file.
